


Revelations and Epiphanies

by RJEzrilou (AnandaRunner)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnandaRunner/pseuds/RJEzrilou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it takes losing someone to realize how much they matter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations and Epiphanies

 

 

_He finds himself smiling at the sound of his voice drifting into the hallway as he cooks._

 

Dean wanders into the kitchen Saturday morning, still rubbing his eyes against the light. “Morning, Cas.”

 

Cas turns, plates in hand. “Good morning, Dean. Would you like breakfast?”

 

He always cooks breakfast in his pajamas and bare feet. Dean grins. “Sounds great.”

 

_It's the ease with which they fill each others' space._

 

“I made waffles. And there's fresh strawberries, if you'd like some.” Cas smiles as Dean takes the offered plate, piled high with golden squares.

 

“I never say no to strawberries.” Cas gestures toward the bowl of cut fruit, setting the syrup and sugar bowl on the table as well.

 

_The small, pleased hum whenever their fingers touch._

 

“Let's go for a drive,” Dean says around a mouthful of soggy waffle.

 

Cas tilts his head slightly in thought.“That sounds very relaxing.”

 

“Awesome. Picnic lunch?”

 

_The way he always looks so much more vibrant than anything around him._

 

\---------------------------

 

_He knows he's staring again. He's not sure he cares._

 

“Dean? What is it?”

 

Dean pulls a few blades of grass from the ground, tearing them into pieces to occupy his gaze. “Nothing, Cas. Just thinking.”

 

_He's caught up in the way his hair whips around in the wind today._

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

Dean sighs, tosses the shredded grass over his shoulder as he shrugs. “I don't know, man. Nothing. Everything. I don't know.”

 

He watches Cas in the edge of his vision as Cas stretches out beside him, lacing his fingers behind his head to look at the clouds.

 

_The way the sunlight makes his eyes shine robs him of words._

 

“I understand. Sometimes it's hard for humans to articulate emotion well.”

 

Dean sighs again and lays down in the grass too. “Yeah, that's it. I'm tongue-tied.”

 

He looks at Cas then, and sticks out his tongue as he did as a child.

 

_He hopes he gets to spend forever watching the slow smile spread across his face._

 

_\---------------_

 

_It's the confusion he feels sometimes, late at night._

 

Dean shuffles barefoot into the library to find Cas reading on the couch.

 

“You should be sleeping,” Cas admonishes and turns the page of his book.

 

Dean picks at the hem of his shirt, mumbling, “Pot and kettle, Cas.”

 

_Maybe there's something to this._

 

“I still insist that's a strange metaphor.” Cas sets the book in his lap, and Dean can feel the expectant gaze without even looking up at him.

 

“Yeah, maybe.”

 

Dean looks at Cas finally then: most of him hidden in the lamplight, book resting in his lap and hands gently wrapped around the armrest, a small smile on his face.

 

_Maybe that's hope in his eyes._

 

Dean watches Cas watching him, and really sees Cas for the first time since he fell.

 

“Would you like to sit and talk? Since we're both awake.” Cas shifts in his chair, gesturing to the couch.

 

But the moment is past, and Dean doesn't know what he's doing anymore.

 

“No...actually, I'm gonna try for more sleep.”

 

“Goodnight, then.”

 

_Maybe it's not._

 

\---------------------------------------------

 

_It's the pain in his eyes as he turns away._

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Dean doesn't know why he asked that, of all things.

 

Cas is carefully arranging his clothes into a suitcase.

 

It's pretty obvious what he's doing.

 

“I'm leaving, Dean.”

 

_The hard set of his jaw as the words turn in his head._

 

“Why the hell would you do something so stupid?!”

 

Dean gestures wildly, scowling all the while.

 

“I don't know. It's irrelevant.”

 

_It's the way he looks everywhere but to him._

 

Dean grabs Cas by the arm, turns him forcefully so Dean can see him.

 

“Irrelevant? What the fuck, Cas?!”

 

Cas doesn't pull his arm back.

 

“It **doesn't matter** , Dean.”

 

Cas unwraps Dean's fingers with his opposite hand and turns away again.

 

_The shadow on his face as he says goodbye._

 

\----------------------------

 

_It's the anger at the silence._

 

“I left for a reason.”

 

Dean's trying not to yell. Really.

 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

 

_It's the lonliness._

 

Dean doesn't get an answer for almost a minute.

 

“It means I'll return when I have a reason.”

 

Dean's mind isn't offering anything useful. He swears his pulse is pushing 200.

 

“Goddamnit, Cas!”

 

_It's the emptiness._

 

“Don't try to find me, Dean.”

 

“Cas, please!”

 

Dean hears Cas sigh, and then there's silence.

 

_It's the regret._

 

\----------------------------------------

 

_It's the dreams._

 

Dean wakes suddenly, tearing himself from his dream. He throws back the covers of his bed and swings his feet off the side.

 

“That's the third one this week. Damn it.”

 

He drags a hand through his hair, breathing slowly to calm his pulse.

 

“Get a fucking grip, Winchester,” he growls at himself.

 

_Can't get him out of his head._

 

Dean leaves his room and wanders through the bunker toward the kitchen. It's 3am, but he doesn't think he'll be able to get back to sleep this time.

 

He digs his phone from the pocket of his robe, hoping for a voicemail or even just a text or a missed call. But, no, of course there's nothing.

 

It's been 2 weeks since Dean had last spoken to Cas. Three weeks since Cas calmly packed his suitcase and left without an explanation, as though he'd expected Dean to just understand what was going on.

 

_He still expects to turn and see him standing mere inches away._

 

His thumb hovers over the call button, thinking about this latest dream. The others had almost been more like memories replayed as he slept, but tonight's was different.

 

He'd seen Cas walking ahead of him, and hurried to catch him, arm outstretched to catch Cas by the shoulder. But the quicker the walked, the more the space between he and Cas had widened.

 

So he tried running, and eventually wrapped a hand around Cas' arm just above his elbow, wheeling him around sharply – only to find Cas' face simply blank. No features to speak of: no firmly set unimpressed frown or smug grin, no shockingly blue eyes staring him down.

 

It was enough to shock Dean awake and leave him trembling.

 

_Enough to push him into a decision._

 

\-----------------------------------------------------

 

 _His breath catches at the voice on the other end of the line_.

 

“Yes, Dean?” Cas sounds like he'd been asleep, and for a second Dean wishes he had waited to call.

 

“Cas! Finally. I mean, uh... hey, Cas.”

 

“Dean. It's 4am, and I asked you not to call me. What is it?”

 

“Er, well, actually, you said not to try to find you. But I had to call.”

 

_His heart races as the words tumble in his mind._

 

“Dean,” Cas grumbles. Dean can almost picture him, laying in bed with the phone in one hand and his other arm thrown over his face in frustration.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Dean chuckles. And then, before he can stop himself, he says, “I need you to come back.”

 

_He finally, finally gets it._

 

“We talked about this, Dean. I left for a reason.”

 

“Dammit Cas, no, we didn't talk about this. That's the fucking problem,” Dean sighs, “and I'm sorry. I **want** you to come back. I miss you, and I'm fucking sorry.”

 

For a moment, there's silence, and Dean thinks Cas has hung up on him.

 

“What else?” Cas asks, quietly.

 

“Wha—what else. Um,” Dean stumbles over his thoughts, because he wasn't prepared. He knows what he wants to say, what he needs to say, what Cas needs to hear, but he didn't expect he'd have to say it right away.

 

“Dean?” Cas sighs. “Never mind, Dean.”

 

“No, Cas, wait! Fuck, I'm such an idiot, okay? I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry, and I miss you. And... and I fucking love you. So get your ass back here...please.”

 

He almost misses the answer from the other end of the line. A soft, whispered, “Alright.”

 

_It's **Cas.**_

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note:**

> BTW, I didn’t include it, but Cas ran off to Hastings, NE. Far enough away that Dean wouldn’t find him accidentally, but close enough to get back in a hurry.
> 
> Written for [dingobait](http://dingobait.tumblr.com/) for TFW Secret Santa '14.


End file.
